


Purpose - Part II

by LadyLienDa



Series: Purpose Series [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Galra Keith (Voltron), Gen, Hope finds a purpose, Hurt/Comfort, POV Original Female Character, Poor Keith, blade of marmora aftermath, no fur and ears though, not a paladin, slightly angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-13 11:19:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11758734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLienDa/pseuds/LadyLienDa
Summary: Hope is still struggling to find her place as a part of the Voltron team. In the aftermath of the visit to the Blade of Marmora’s headquarters, Keith is left exhausted and vulnerable – both physically and emotionally. Hope finds herself able to provide the healing Keith needs. Is this the moment of usefulness she’s been waiting for?





	1. Chapter 1

Sometimes I wish things were as easy as jelly donuts and space tacos.  
“I’m so excited to see the Blade of Marmora’s base!” Pidge says eagerly, nearly hopping with excitement.  
“Mmm…” Says Hunk solemnly, patting his stomach. “The space taco. It left us too soon.”  
Pidge frowns. “Well, yeah, but just think! They were able to bend space-time and that was just at an outpost! Just think of what their home base could do!”   
“Exactly!” Hunk pipes in. “It could take on any shape. Like a space jelly donut. Or long, like a chocolate éclair! Or maybe like some cherry blintzes…!”  
He goes on, talking about powdered sugar and stars and it makes my mouth water just thinking about it.  
“Aw!” Says Lance over my right shoulder. “Now I’m hungry for breakfast!”  
“You just had some.” I point out.  
“Yeah, but that was just goo.” Lance retorts, though not unkindly. “I want some real food!”  
“Guys!” Keith says in an exasperated tone, his voice raised. “This is a serious mission! We need to focus!” He’s sitting in his control seat on the far right of the bridge, his arms crossed and a scowl on his face.  
Lance immediately retaliates by screwing up his face and repeating Keith’s words in a mocking tone.  
“We need to fo-cus!”  
I have to bite back a snort of laughter, which I know will only egg Lance on. Keith doesn’t seem to be in a very flippant mood and the last thing we need is a blowup.  
We’re en route to the Blade of Marmora’s headquarters, now that Shiro has found a way to break Zarkon’s bond with the Black Lion. We’ve just popped out of a wormhole and are heading towards the coordinates. Pidge and Hunk are clearly excited, while everyone else seems to be all business, like usual. Well, except for Lance. Lance is just being…well…Lance.   
Ignoring him for the time being, I turn to Shiro and Allura.  
“So what are we going to do when we get there?” I ask. “Just, like, y’know…knock?”  
“We’ll figure that out when we get there, Hope.” Says Shiro. “For now, let’s just stay focused.”  
Out of the corner of my eye I notice Keith shooting a withering look at Lance, who shoots back an equally waspish glare.  
“The base is in range.” Coran informs us, snapping everyone’s attention towards the front.  
“Just take her in slow.” Shiro instructs.  
As the base nears, everyone’s mouths drop open.  
“That might prove the tiniest bit of a challenge.”  
Coran’s words are clearly an understatement, yet they seem to accurately sum up the situation.  
“Is that a…black hole?” Hunk asks, scratching his scalp.  
“Oh, no no no.” Says Coran in a deceptively casual voice. “It’s two black holes!”  
“That’s not better!” Hunk retorts, and I have to agree with him.  
How in the hullaballoo are we going to get in there? I think, suddenly realizing this may not be as easy as just waltzing in and saying hello.  
I whistle. “Um, wow.” I say. “No wonder the Galra haven’t found them yet.”  
“No kidding!” Says Pidge. She starts muttering about temperature inside black holes and I don’t really pay attention until Hunk mentions a taco and Lance exclaims that he’s now hungry for lunch.  
“Guys! Quiet!” Shouts Keith, leaping to his feet. “Coran, where’s the base located?”  
“In between those three deadly celestial objects.”  
“The perfect defensive position.” Says Pidge, her face and voice calculating and serious.  
“Or the perfect trap.” Says Allura from her post at the ship’s command center.  
“Yeah, I’m with Allura.” Hunk pipes up.  
“Me too.” I echo. “Maybe we shouldn’t, like, go in there at all?”  
Hunk nods fervently and we both look at Shiro, waiting for his answer. Before he can, however, Keith’s shout from across the bridge snaps everyone’s attention towards him.  
“What are you talking about?!” He exclaims. “We have to go in! This the whole reason we came out here! There is no other option!”  
The bridge goes momentarily silent as everyone stares, a little dumbfounded at Keith’s outburst. Keith himself, clearly having gotten his point across, huffs and turns his back a little, his arms crossed over his chest and his back stiff.  
I open my mouth to say something, but realize I’m quite taken aback and can’t form words. Lance beats me to it, although his approach is a bit more scornful than mine would have been.  
“Okay, sheesh! Calm down!”  
Anything anyone else might say dies in their throats when a strange, otherworldly voice takes over the comms.  
“Identify yourself.”  
Startled, I squeak and jump behind Hunk, peering out from behind his massive frame at the holo-screen.  
Shiro, calm and steady, hasn’t moved a muscle. “Open a hailing frequency, Coran.”  
“Just a tick!”  
Shiro clears his throat and speaks loudly and confidently. “We are the Paladins of Voltron, sent here by Ulaz!”  
The paladins and one extra passenger. I think, a prickle of doubt rippling through me. No! I think harder. I’m part of the team! I can’t think like this! Positive thoughts, Hope! Positive thoughts!  
The room has gone silent once more as we wait for the reply. I’m so deep in thought, however, I almost miss what comes next. But when the voice comes again I’m startled once more, effectively erasing whatever thought process I’d been mulling over and succeeding in thoroughly distracting me from it.  
“Two may enter.” Says the voice. “Come unarmed.”  
The transmission is cut and we’re left with silence. Allura is the first to break it.  
“Why would they insist we come alone?” She says, her voice full of suspicion. “Shiro, this doesn’t seem right.”  
Everyone then begins to argue over the best course of action, as well as who should go with Shiro. He chooses Keith, to the immediate protest of Lance.  
“Oh, Keith’s a hothead!” He exclaims. “He’s probably going to shoot first and ask questions later! And they won’t be able to answer, because they’ll be dead!”  
“Perhaps you should take someone who isn’t a Paladin.” I suggest. “Someone who doesn’t pose much of a threat.”  
“What?!” Allura exclaims. “No, if it’s a trap, you’ll be all that more defenseless!”  
I try not to take that as an implication that I am completely helpless, but I still feel stung. Allura probably didn’t mean it that way, but it still sounds that way.  
“Maybe.” I say, shoving the thought away, “but what if it isn’t? They might feel intimidated by two full-blown paladins.” Everyone is looking at me now, and not all of the stares are encouraging. I shrug, pulling my arms close to my body and shifting my weight to the other foot.  
“I’m… just trying to think of all the possibilities before we rush into this.” I finish awkwardly.  
“Good idea, Hope.” Says Shiro encouragingly. “However, we still haven’t completely severed Zarkon’s bond with the Black Lion, so it has to stay here. And if I’m going, that means there has to be another paladin with me to pilot a lion.”  
“You could just take a pod.” Suggests Hunk, coming to my defense.  
Shiro shakes his head. “The pods aren’t designed for so much heat and pressure. Only the Red Lion is fast enough to escape the black holes and it can also withstand the heat from that sun. So yes, it’ll be Keith. I’m sorry, Hope.”  
Frustrated, I cross my arms and turn aside, not trusting myself to say anything lest it come out as an angry backlash at Shiro or some other nasty comment. I’d rather keep quiet now instead of risking the possibility of saying something I later regret. Nevertheless, I’m still grumpy. I wanted to be useful in something other than fixing the cryopods or tending minor injuries, and it had looked like I might finally have a chance to do that.  
Stupid Zarkon. I think. Stupid Black Lion and its stupid bond.  
Having nothing more to discuss, Keith and Shiro prepare for departure. I watch from the bridge with everyone else as the Red Lion flies gracefully away from the ship and towards the giant blue star. The ship’s tracker is locked onto the Lion, so we can see where it is, but aside from that we have no idea what’s going on. Our comms are open momentarily, but then the Lion passes through the barrier and the transmission is lost.  
“We can’t get any comm signal!” Says Pidge, her fingers a blur as they danced over the holographic keyboard on the control panel she was sitting at. “Whatever’s surrounding that place is cutting it off!”  
“I knew it was a trap!” Allura says, her voice low and full of malice.  
“Hold your yelmores!” Says Coran, holding up a finger. “We’re still getting a tracking signal on the Red Lion. Looks like it’s landed.”  
“So they made it to the base, at least.” Says Hunk. “That’s encouraging.”  
“True, but now there’s no way to get any idea what’s going on.” Says Pidge. “We’ll have to wait until the Lion starts moving to get any idea of what’s going on down there.”  
“Oh, I hate waiting!” Lance exclaims, stamping his foot. Aside from me, he’s the one who looks the most annoyed, though I can tell it’s more because of his rivalry with Keith than anything else.  
“Well, this could be a long meeting.” Says Coran, fiddling with his moustache. “Who knows how long it’s going to take?”  
“Guess it’s a good time for me to go see about some lunch?” Hunk asks, edging ever so slightly towards the elevator door.  
“I’m not going anywhere until I’m sure they’re headed back safely.” Says Allura, her voice fierce.  
“I’m going to try and see if I can’t bypass whatever’s blocking our comm signal.” Says Pidge, already bringing up several holo-screens on her control panel.  
Lance laces his fingers together and stretches his arms above his head, making his knuckles and wrists crack like fireworks. “I suppose I could go see if I can make it past level 5 on the training deck.” He leaves the room, muttering something about wondering if he’d be any good with a sword.  
With Allura, Pidge, and Coran engrossed in their various tasks, Hunk and I are left standing awkwardly in the middle of the bridge. I turn and beckon with my arm as I head towards the elevator door where Lance had disappeared a moment before.  
“C’mon, Hunk.” I say. “Let’s go whip up a space taco or something.”  
•   
It doesn’t take us long to make lunch. We’re both so uptight about Shiro and Keith being beyond the reach of our ship and comms that it makes us subconsciously hurry so as to return to the bridge as quickly as possible. My movements are almost mechanical – I might as well be a robot. I get out the meat and Altean version of beans and begin frying them in a pan almost without thinking. Only when Hunk’s massive hand suddenly grabs my wrist do I realize with shock that the seasoning I had been about to use isn’t salt, but a super-spicy granulated crystal that looks exactly like it.  
“Yeah, I wouldn’t use the Erusian fire salt.” He says genially. “That stuff’s so strong, it’ll knock us into next week.”  
I blink, embarrassed and a little confused. I could have sworn I’d grabbed the regular salt. How did I end up with the wrong stuff by mistake? I must be more uptight that I’d thought.  
“You okay?” Hunk asks, sensing my distress.  
“Uh, yeah.” I say, shaking my head a little. “Just worried, that’s all.”  
“Aren’t we all?” Asks Hunk, chuckling a little. “But you seem…well… a little more than usual.” He awkwardly reaches up to scratch the back of his neck, just as embarrassed as I had been earlier.  
It strikes me how much the two of us are alike. From looking at us, one wouldn’t expect us to have anything in common. He’s big, beefy, and tough, and I’m five-foot-two with spindly arms and skinny ankles. But we both care immensely for people – especially those close to us. We also both have an uncanny ability to see right through someone’s façade. Right now, he’s sensing something else beneath my worry for our teammates – and he’s right. Shiro’s refusal of my suggestion has really gotten to me – more than I’d care to admit. Before I can really think, I’ve said as much.  
“Yeah, I wondered.” Hunk says, spooning meat onto a flat piece of bread we’re using instead of tortillas. “It was a good idea, though.”  
“I just wanted to be useful for once.” I say.  
“Didn’t you fix the healing pods for Lance?” Hunk asks.  
“Yeah, but I still feel like I’m just…well, here.” I say, mixing vegetable sauces and spices to make something resembling salsa. “I’ve been helpful, but I guess I’m just having trouble being content with that.”  
“I understand.” Says Hunk.  
“You do?” I ask, looking up.  
Hunk shifts his weight a little before answering. “Back at the Garrisson.” He says. “I was the engineer for our little team. You know I can get pretty motion-sick, right?”  
I nod, remembering the first time I encountered Hunk’s gastrointestinal problems, which involved a faulty hydraulic stabilizer on a pod and a planet with a very turbulent atmosphere.  
“Well, that made it difficult for me to work well in the simulators. I tried everything – medicine, diet, you name it. Nothing helped. I was constantly frustrated, because my motion-sickness was hindering me from doing my job. I felt like a slacker, or that I wasn’t as important as Lance or Pidge.”  
“You felt useless.” I say, realizing his situation was a lot like my own. “What did you do?”  
Hunk shrugs. “I had a choice. I could stay wallowing in self-pity, or I could suck it up and make the best of it. So that’s what I did. It took a while, but I eventually stopped feeling sorry for myself and started trying to change it.”  
“But I don’t have any motion-sickness to blame.” I say. “I’m just here.”  
“True, but that doesn’t make your situation any less real.” Hunk replies, folding the flat bread over the filling and setting it aside. A brief silence falls and Hunk picks up another flat bread and begins piling meat and vegetables onto its center. “Look, I get it.” He looks up at me, his black eyes dead serious. “But don’t let it go to your head. You should know we accept you as part of the group regardless of whether you contribute anything or not.”  
“That’s not really my problem.” I say, slapping a piece of flat bread down onto the counter in front of me and reaching for the sauce. “I am doing something, it’s just hard to be content with just doing things like fixing the healing pods and -” I break off suddenly, remembering Keith had come to me last night because he knew I wouldn’t tell anyone that he’d accidentally cut his hand, “ – making tacos and stuff.” I blurt, hoping Hunk hasn’t noticed my slipup. He doesn’t seem to, and I can’t help letting out a small sigh of relief.  
“I get it.” Says Hunk. “But who knows? You might have a chance later on to do something none of the rest of us can do.”  
When I don’t reply, he continues. “Shiro does what he thinks is best for the team as a whole. Don’t take it personally.”  
I nod, concentrating on sprinkling cheese onto the taco I’m assembling instead of meeting his gaze.  
“And who knows?” Hunk doesn’t seem fazed by my silence. “You might get a chance to do something none of the rest of us can do!”  
I finish the taco and set it on the platter at the same time Hunk finishes his last one and also moves towards the platter. He leans over so he’s more or less at my level and looks me straight in the eye. I’m unable to look away, caught in his gaze.  
“And remember, none of us think any less of you for being who you are.”  
“I know.” I say, managing a half-smile. “Allura, Keith, and Shiro all said pretty much the same thing. The hardest part is believing it.”  
“Ain’t that the truth.” Says Hunk with a lopsided smile. He seizes the platter full of tacos and licks his lips. “Now, let’s bring these back to the bridge so we can eat!”  
“Yes.” I agree, picking up a stack of plates and the bowl of leftover sauce. “I’m starving.”  
•   
The space tacos end up being quite delicious. However, my mind can’t truly process and savor how tasty they are. As soon as Hunk and I ascend the elevator to the bridge, the reality of the situation sinks back in. Shiro and Keith are alone on that strange base, and we can’t do a thing to help them if something goes wrong. My stomach churns uncomfortably at the thought, making it hard to appreciate the tacos.   
Pidge is still running diagnostics, but so far, nothing has been able to break through whatever’s blocking our comm signal. I’m starting to think it may be a hopeless effort. But as the hours wear on, I start to think it might be a good idea to have something to keep me focused and distract me from worrying about Keith and Shiro.  
Once everyone’s eaten their fill of tacos (I have to nearly force Pidge to eat something, since she’s so engrossed in her work), Hunk clears away the platter and I begin a game of Go Fish with Lance using a deck of Altean playing cards. They’re a bit tricky, since they’re bigger and thicker than Earthen playing cards, and there’s about twice as many of them. But playing cards with Lance proves a good distraction for both of us. Hunk appears a few minutes after we’ve started and joins in the next game.  
For a while, we’re so engrossed in card games none of us have time to worry about what’s going on outside the ship. To be honest, I’m having a bit of fun with these simple road-trip games. I haven’t played these in ages! The Olkari are a very advanced culture, but their ideas of recreation tend to lie in a more creationary direction than playing with little bits of paper. These simple games like Go Fish, Old Maid, and Speed remind me so much of Earth that for a moment, I feel homesick. It’s a very weird feeling. How can I be homesick for something I don’t really remember? I remember bits and pieces, such as how to play these games, but everything else about my previous life is fuzzy. Who was I before all of this? I suddenly realize this is similar to what Shiro must be going through, and a fresh wave of sympathy and admiration rolls through me.  
Several hours later, we’re starting to get restless. Hunk leaves to get snacks, and Lance, having just lost his fourth Speed game in a row, throws the rest of his cards up in frustration and gets to his feet in a huff. Leaving me to clean up the scattered cards, he wanders over to the front of the bridge to see what Coran is up to. I’ve just sorted the cards and put them back in their case when Hunk reappears with several smoothies of some kind. He hands one to me and we both head over to stand by Lance.  
“How long has it been?” Asks Allura, her voice tired, but also on edge. She’s been standing ramrod straight in her spot for the last several hours, and hasn’t shown any signs of fatigue.  
Coran sighs. “Roughly ten vargas.”  
“We cannot just wait here!” Allura sounds impatient.  
“Well, we’re going to have to.” I say. “We can’t get through the barrier, even if we wanted to.”  
“Yeah, the path is closed for like, I don’t know – thirty more vargas, or something?” Lance says to nobody in particular.  
Coran pauses. “That’s actually correct.” He says, sounding faintly surprised.  
“Really?” Hunk and I both say at once, equally surprised that Lance, of all the people on the ship right now would get something like that correct.  
Lance looks pleased with himself and leans back on the control panel he’s lounging against. “Yeah!” He says in a duh sort of voice. “I wasn’t born yester-quintant!”  
Could’ve fooled me. I think, but decide to hold my tongue.  
“I have to know what’s going on down there.” Says Allura, sounding more worried and serious by the minute.  
“There's no way to get a read on their base.” Says Pidge from her control panel. “Too much interference from the solar flares and the black holes.”  
“There must be some way to get around this.” I murmur, not realizing I’ve spoken aloud until Hunk catches on.  
“Yeah, If we account for the gravitational lensing, maybe we can reduce the noise and interference and connect with the Red Lion's sensors, right?” He gestures around him, but I’m unsure of exactly who he’s talking to. “Th-That's right, right?”  
Lance looks back and forth between Hunk, me, and Coran, looking confused. Then he raises one eyebrow at Hunk and points at himself.  
“Are you looking at me?”  
“We can give it a try.” Says Coran, still frowning at the holo-screens on his panel.  
“Get on it.” Allura orders, though she probably doesn’t mean it to sound so demanding.  
Hunk moves off to his own control panel, and Lance and I are left to stand awkwardly behind either Coran, Pidge, or Hunk’s shoulder, watching what they’re doing.  
The bridge is devoid of voices for several minutes, with the only sound being fingers tapping on the smooth surface of the control panels. Suddenly, an alarm blares, shattering the silence and making everyone jump.  
“Whatsthat?” I shout, startled.  
“The Red Lion is moving!” Coran exclaims.  
“Oh, does that mean they’re coming back now?” I ask.  
“I don’t think so.” Coran replies.  
“Well, what does it mean?”  
“We’ve gotta get down there!” Lance says adamantly, cutting off whatever Coran had been about to say.  
“It won’t be ready for another five minutes!” Says Hunk.  
“Well, do it faster, or something!” Says Lance.  
“We can’t!” I say. “You said yourself it won’t be open for another thirty vargas! We can’t do anything until then!”  
“Man, I wish I knew what was going on down there.” Lance says in a defeated sort of tone, running his fingers absentmindedly through his hair.  
“I think everyone on this ship wishes that.” I say. “But we can’t do anything until we can get the -”  
I break off as a second alarm blares, sending its angry tones bouncing around the walls of the bridge.  
“What now?” I ask, my voice raised in concern as well as frustration. Those alarms really grate on my nerves.  
“The Red Lion has started attacking!” Coran blurts in a voice wild with disbelief.  
“What?!” Several voices, including my own, blurt out at once.  
“Allura…?” Lance asks, and I look behind me to see the princess’s face is steely and grim.  
“Everyone, stay focused.” She commands.  
The effect is instantaneous. Hunk and I, who both have a tendency to panic, relax a bit, releasing some of the tension in our muscles. Lance steels his face and straightens his back. The air is ripe with trepidation, and the only sound I can hear is that of my own heart.  
What’s going on down there? I wonder, swallowing the lump in my throat. If they’ve been hurt…if this is a trap…  
“Coran, how much longer until we can get in there?” Allura asks, her voice cracking with the effort of appearing calm and collected.  
“Just a few more ticks, princess.” Coran replies, his hands flying over the holographic keyboard.  
Allura’s eyes are steely. “Get ready.” She says.  
Coran begins to count down the ticks.  
“Five…four…three…two…”  
“Princess!” The comms suddenly blares to life and I’ve never been so glad to hear Shiro’s voice. “We’re coming back, and we’re bringing someone you should meet.”  
A rushing sound ripples through the room as six people breathe out sighs of relief. Then everything is a blur as we all rush down to the Red Lion’s bay. We arrive just as Shiro and Keith are exiting the Lion, followed by two tall, shadowy figures dressed in a mixture of armor, wrapped robes, and masks, all edged with an indigo glow.  
Galra! I think, though more out of curiosity and awe than fear.  
Both of the galra following Shiro are tall – taller than Allura, even. Shiro and Keith look dwarfed standing next to them and I suddenly feel very, very small. In terms of height, I’m right smack between Pidge and Keith, earning me the number “4.5” from Coran. He explained that re-numbering the group after I joined would be confusing, so he made it simpler and put me in between 4 and 5. The nickname stuck.  
One of the galra is wearing a mask that obscures his entire face, and the other is bareheaded. His eyes are glowing yellow, like all galra, and his white hair is shaved on the sides and braided across the top of his head in a mohawk, leaving a long, braided tail that drapes across one shoulder. There’s a scar across his right eye that continues down towards his upper lip.   
He bows low before Allura and introduces himself as Kolivan, leader of the Blade of Marmora. As they talk, my gaze flicks over the rest of the group. Shiro looks as impressive as ever in his paladin armor, standing beside Kolivan like an honor guard. He still manages to look impressive despite being at least a foot shorter than the galra standing directly behind Kolivan. The expressionless masked head turns towards me and I do my best not to shudder. I can’t see his eyes but I can feel his unnerving stare.  
Instead, I turn my gaze to Keith. When the Lion had landed, he’d followed Shiro, then stood off to the side, out of the way. His face is blank and his eyes are half-lidded and glassy. Edging closer, I whisper as quietly as I can so as not to interrupt the main conversation.  
“You okay, Keith?” I ask.  
Keith doesn’t answer. He scrunches his face up and gives his head a little shake. “Sorry, what?” He asks, turning towards me.  
“You okay?” I repeat, raising an eyebrow at his slightly unfocused expression. Now that I notice it, his face is flushed and the ends of his hair are plastered to his face. What had happened? Had he been running, or something?   
“I’m fine.” Keith says, and his tone betrays his irritation at my asking. Shrugging, I turn aside and focus once more on the conversation between Allura and Kolivan. If Keith doesn’t want to talk, I won’t push him, even though I am very curious as to why he’s acting like this. Keith’s reflexes are spot-on, so why didn’t he respond immediately when I spoke to him?  
I surreptitiously sneak a sideways glance at Keith and notice more details that cause a little bell of alarm to begin to chime inside my head. There are some pretty fine bruises along his jaw and the side of his head, and a small, fine line of crusted red blood along his neck. His eyes are back to that half-lidded, vacant expression.  
I’m about to ask him again if he’s okay when my gaze catches something moving and automatically flicks towards it. It’s a spot on his paladin armor, just a little below his shoulder. Right where the white of the arm and chest piece meets the contrasting black of the shoulder piece, a slight hint of red has appeared. A second later, the spot has gotten larger and before I know what’s happening, a small red drip has run down the side of his armor.  
A startled shriek rings throughout the room and I jump in horror before realizing the voice had been mine. The room goes silent in an instant, like a radio being turned off. Everyone’s eyes are turned towards me, and I can feel their gazes burning into me. But all I can see is the dribble of blood seeping out through the chinks in Keith’s armor.  
Breathless with horror, I point a shaky finger at the spot.  
“What happened to you?” I ask, my voice shaking as hard as my hand.  
Before a flustered Keith can muster up a reply, Hunk’s voice shatters the silence.  
“Ohmygosh, is that blood?!” He stammers. “I can’t stand blood!”  
Suddenly everyone is rushing forward and talking at once.  
“Keith, buddy, what’s going on?” Lance sputters.  
“Holy quiznak!” Pidge half-shouts, her hands over her mouth. “What happened?”  
“You told me you were okay!” Shiro says in a tight voice, placing his hand on Keith’s other shoulder.  
Keith rubs his eye with one fist. “I-I might have been overstating it a bit.” He mumbles almost incoherently, then suddenly his legs give out and he collapses like a puppet whose strings have been cut. If Shiro hadn’t been in such close proximity, Keith would have hit his head on the floor. As it is, Shiro catches him quite easily, then slowly lowers him to the ground. The others all rush forward and begin to talk at once. I immediately crouch down and gently pull Keith’s helmet off of his head, setting it aside. I reach over and smooth his hair off his sweaty forehead, feeling with alarm at how warm it is.  
“Help me get his armor off.” Shiro says, and we begin to wiggle Keith’s chest plate off his body. It’s difficult to do without hurting him, and Keith hisses and shudders at every movement.  
“Sorry…sorry…” I find myself saying every time his face contorts in obvious discomfort.   
“S’okay.” He says weakly, although that couldn’t be farther from the truth. His eyes are glazed and his teeth clenched in a vain effort to conceal the pain he’s in. Beneath his armor, there’s a dark, blood-soaked spot on his undersuit, directly across his shoulder. Shiro is trying to unzip the back of the suit so he can get a look at the wound beneath.  
I’m aware of the rest of the group behind me, all crowding around trying to help, and Shiro raises his head, telling everyone to back off a bit. They do so with some reluctance.  
“What happened?” I ask, narrowing my eyes at the two galra standing just outside of the group. “How did he get like this?”  
“I was about to ask the same thing.” Says Allura in an icy voice, whirling around to face Kolivan and his silent companion. Kolivan’s face is stony and almost indifferent.  
“He sought knowledge from us.” He answers cooly. “In our organization, there are only two options for such a demand: knowledge or death.”  
“What?!” Allura sputters, momentarily losing her cool.  
Lance shakes his fist at the purple-skinned figure. “So you beat the crap out of him because he asked a question?”  
“No.” Says Kolivan. “Because he refused to give up something that does not belong to him. He wished to know of its origin. That knowledge was not his to gain without a price.”  
Pidge blinks, looking flustered. “What did he have that wasn’t his?”  
“That is not for you to know.”  
“Fine!” Lance snaps. “Keep your secrets.”  
“He doesn’t look good.” Says Shiro, and everyone’s attention turns back to the prone form on the floor. Keith’s eyes are almost fully shut, and his body is shuddering slightly. The wound on his shoulder looks several hours old, but it’s still bleeding sluggishly. Shiro gently pulls him up into a half-reclined position, with Keith’s head in the crook of his arm.  
“Hang in there, buddy.” He says softly. “We’ll get you fixed up in no time.”  
Keith gives no indication of whether he’s heard Shiro or not.  
“Unfortunately, that’s what we don’t have.” Says Kolivan’s stony voice. “Time.”  
“But Keith needs help,” says Hunk firmly, “and that trumps whatever else we need to do.”  
Allura, however, is grimacing. “Unfortunately, he’s right.”  
“What?!” Several voices, including my own, exclaim. I can’t believe my ears. What is Allura saying?  
Allura looks uncomfortably grim. “Look, as much as I hate to say it, we need to form a plan before it’s too late. Kolivan says some things have changed with the spy they have in Galran Command. That means we must act now.”  
“But what about Keith?” Pidge asks. “We shouldn’t be wasting time standing around here while he bleeds out!”  
“I’ll help him.” I say. Everyone looks at me. I shrug my shoulders and continue. “Look, Allura’s right. We need to form a plan to beat Zarkon. And since Keith is currently down, that means we can’t afford to have any more paladins missing. I’m not a paladin, so I’m…” I stop, unsure of what word to use. Expendable? Unnecessary?   
I settle on “available.” “I’m available.”  
“You all go up to the bridge and work on a plan.” I say. “That’s the main priority. I’ll tend to Keith and get him set up in a healing pod.”  
“Are you sure you’ll be all right by yourself?” Shiro asks.  
“I’ve had plenty of experience treating injuries.” I answer. “This shouldn’t be difficult.” I look down at Keith’s form lying in Shiro’s arms. “I will, however, need help getting him to the medbay.”  
“I can help with that.” Says Hunk. Crouching down, he extends his hands toward Keith, as if to lift him out of Shiro’s arms. Shiro hesitates, seemingly unwilling to let go.  
“Shiro, we need you to let go.” Says Allura. “Let them take care of him.”  
Shiro sighs. “You’re right, Allura.” He says. At this, Hunk carefully places his arms at Keith’s back and knees, and slowly lifts him up into the air.  
“You’d better hurry.” Says Coran, fiddling with his moustache. “That shoulder wound doesn’t look good.”  
“C’mon, Hunk.” I say, and together we rush out of the hangar and down the hall as quickly as we can without jostling Keith too badly. We reach the elevator and I punch in the number for the medbay floor. I’m practically hopping with impatience as the elevator slowly sinks lower and lower.  
7…8…9…10…  
The elevator chimes merrily and we’re out of the doors almost before they open all the way and speeding down the hallway towards the medbay. My heart is pounding with a number of emotions – anxiety, urgency, even anger – but my mind is strangely focused.  
“Get him on one of the beds.” I say to Hunk as I rush to the supply cabinet and begin grabbing anything I think I might need. Balancing the items precariously in my arms, I stagger out of the closet and over towards where Hunk has just laid Keith down onto one of the six hospital-style beds lining one wall of the medbay.   
Anticipating that I need help, Hunk takes several of the items in my hands before I lose balance and send them crashing to the floor. As we set them on a nearby portable counter I hear a weak groan from the bed. Rushing over, I take Keith’s hand in mine, not even thinking about the potential awkwardness.  
“It’s okay, Keith.” I say in what I hope is a soothing voice, unconsciously rubbing my thumb over his knuckles. “We’re going to help, don’t worry.”  
If Keith can hear me, he doesn’t indicate it. His eyes are closed fully now and his breathing has become more ragged. A spear of pity drives its way into my heart.  
I turn to Hunk as he scoots the counter closer to the bed. “I’m going to need your help getting the rest of his armor off.”  
Hunk nods morosely. “You should look for some hospital pants, or something.” He says. “Anything but those skin-tight cryo-suits.”  
“Yes.” I reply, already yanking open every cabinet within reach and hurriedly rifling through the contents.  
“Antibiotics…no…” I mutter as I hurriedly search the cabinets, “…defibrillator…no…darn! Where’s the – oh! Here we go!”  
I’ve just opened a door containing various articles of clothing in varying shades of stark white and pale blue. Digging through a stack of white-and-gray cryo-suits, I seize a pair of trousers I figure are at least close to Keith’s size and hurry back towards the bed. Hunk has gotten all of Keith’s armor off him and is starting on the black undersuit. I hand him the pants and turn aside to allow Keith some privacy.  
“Okay, you can turn around now.” Says Hunk after several minutes and I turn to find him already pressing an Altean gauze pad against Keith’s shoulder.  
“The bleeding has almost stopped.” He informs me, his eyes narrowed in a kind of solemn sadness.  
“Good.” I say. Then my eyes light upon Keith’s bare chest and I have to clap my hands over my mouth to stifle a gasp of shock. Aside from the bloody shoulder, nearly all of Keith’s torso is covered in bruises – some angry and red, others splotchy and purple.  
Hunk gives a mirthless chuckle at my reaction. “Pretty, isn’t it?”  
“I’m starting to wonder if an alliance with these guys is a good idea.” I say bitterly, picking up two bottles of antiseptic and comparing them.  
“No kidding.” Hunk says. Then he frowns a little. “Are you sure you’ll be alright by yourself?” He asks earnestly.  
I set down the larger bottle and start fiddling with the cap of the smaller one. “I’m fine, Hunk.” I say. “I learned plenty of medicinal practices with the Olkari.” The cap is stuck and I’m having a hard time getting it off. Hunk holds out his hand and I hand the bottle over almost automatically.  
“Look, why don’t you take one of those handheld comms and I’ll give you a holler if I need anything?” I say.  
“Good idea.” Says Hunk as he unscrews the cap with about as much effort as snapping a toothpick and hands it back to me.  
“You should probably get back up to the rest of the group.” I say, holding a fresh gauze pad to the open neck of the bottle and pouring some of the solution out onto it. “We’ve already got one paladin who’s down for the count – you shouldn’t be missing any more of the discussion than you have to.”  
“I suppose you have a point.” Says Hunk, tossing me a comm unit. “Remember to call if anything goes wrong.”  
“I will.” I say, somewhat absently. I’m already bending over Keith and tapping his good shoulder as Hunk speaks, so I don’t see him leave. My mind is focused on my patient.  
“Keith?” I ask softly, increasing the intensity of my tapping when I don’t get a response. “Keith, are you with me?”  
I’m answered by a groan. Keith’s eyelids flutter and his eyebrows twitch. One eye opens a sliver, squinting in the rather harsh lighting from overhead.  
“Whazzgoinon?” He mumbles, shifting slightly in an attempt to get more comfortable. His face contorts in pain when he moves too suddenly, though.  
“Are you awake?” I ask in a semi-joking voice. Keith almost smiles.  
“I think so.” He answers. He succeeds in raising his head, wincing as he does so. I can see him attempt to hide it, however. “This the medbay?” He asks, sounding mildly confused.  
“Yes.” I say, applying slight pressure to his good shoulder to get him to lie back down again. “Do you remember how you got here?”  
“Bits and pieces.” Says Keith, sounding more coherent with every word. Both eyes are open now, and much clearer. “I think I’ve been drifting in and out ever since the base.”  
“Well, I need you to stay with me until I’m all done,” I say in what I hope is a pleasant, cheerful tone, “because otherwise I won’t know how to treat you.”  
“S’just my shoulder, really.” Keith says.  
“That’s the worst one, yes,” I say, carefully peeling away the gauze Hunk had placed over it to check on the wound, “but look at the rest of you! You look like a galra, you have so many purple bruises!”  
Keith winces as though he’s been slapped in the face, although it’s clearly not from physical pain. Wondering what in the world that could be about and deciding I don’t have time to analyze it now, I move to the other side of the bed to get a better view on his injured shoulder.  
“I need to disinfect this before I wrap it.” I explain, holding up the gauze pad covered in antiseptic. “I have no idea if this will hurt or not.”  
Keith grimaces. “Knowing Altean medicine, it’ll probably burn like crazy.”  
I’ve peeled back most of the gauze (very carefully) and am relieved to find the bleeding has stopped. At a nod from Keith, I gently touch the edge of the wound with the gauze pad and begin to wash away the crusted blood with slow, even strokes. Keith hisses between gritted teeth and twitches slightly, but he does his best to remain still. I frown a little at this. Now that I realize it, Keith isn’t showing much interest in returning to the bridge with the rest of the paladins. In fact, he’s not making much of an effort to move at all. He’s simply lying there like a rag doll, letting me tend his wounds without any protest or insistence that he’s fine and he should be getting back to the bridge with everyone else. Aside from the occasional grimace of pain, his face remains vacant and far-off, like he’s thinking very deeply about something.  
“Something wrong?” I ask before I can mentally talk myself out of it. My concern for him is overriding any previous thoughts of giving him space. Keith turns his head to look at me, slightly confused.  
“What’s that?”  
I momentarily leave the bedside to pull the counter closer. “I’m just wondering what’s going through your head.” I say, grabbing a second gauze pad and dousing it with fresh solution. “You’re not usually this quiet – or this cooperative.”  
Another half-smirk.  
“And of course, I’m dying to know what happened on that base to put you in such a state!”  
“It’s a long story.” Keith mutters.  
“We’re not going anywhere.” I say, helping him into a half-sitting position so I can clean the rest of the wound.  
Keith only grunts in response and I gather from this that he’s not inclined to tell me. The room falls silent for a few minutes while I concentrate on cleaning his shoulder. Once I’ve washed away all the excess blood, I am able to get a good look at the wound. It’s a long, deep laceration directly across his shoulder. The nature of the cut indicates that it was probably made from a blade of some kind.  
After washing my hands in a nearby sink, I pick up a jar of soothing ointment. I smear some on my fingers and begin to gently dab the cream onto the freshly-clotted wound. The movement upsets some of the clotting, so I quickly apply a fresh gauze pad and use surgical tape to keep it in place.  
“Okay, so that’s the worst one.” I say. “Is there anywhere else that hurts?”  
Keith gives a dry little chuckle. “Pretty much everywhere.”  
“How’s your head?” I ask, washing my hands again and drying them on a clean white towel. “Do you need an ice pack?”  
“Now that you mention it – yes, that would be nice.”  
“Are you feeling dizzy?” I keep questioning as I hand him an ice pack. He takes it gratefully and presses it against his still-sweaty forehead. “No ringing in your ears? Are you nauseous?” I’m concerned about the possibility of a concussion. Since the hangar, Keith has been exhibiting several of the telltale signs – and that fact is enough to cause alarm bells to go off inside my head.   
Keith frowns, seemingly deliberating on the answers to each of the rapid-fire questions. Even this is cause for alarm – he’s been slow to answer ever since I noticed his condition in the hangar.   
“Yeah, I guess I’m a bit dizzy.” He finally answers. “And I was a little nauseous earlier, but now it’s gone.”  
I nod to myself as I hunt around in the cabinets for a handheld scanner. Keith’s words have unofficially confirmed my suspicion. Although, I concede as I locate the scanner and return to the counter, the dizziness could also be due to loss of blood.  
“Okay, hold still.” I order, turning on the scanner and turning a few dials. “I need to check something.”  
Keith does as he’s told, and there’s a pause before the scanner beeps and confirms what I’d already concluded.  
“Well, you’ve got a concussion.” I tell him, setting the scanner aside. “But the good news is it’s not serious.”  
And for that we should be thankful. I think, inwardly breathing a sigh of relief.  
Keith doesn’t seem surprised. “Yeah, I thought so.”  
More silence falls as I mix a bowl of soapy water and begin to wash the sweat and grime from Keith’s lean frame. He breathes a deep sigh of what I interpret as contentment.  
“Where did you learn all of this?” He asks suddenly, startling me out of my concentration. “Did you study medicine at the Garrison?”  
I shake my head. “Not that I remember. As I recall, I never had any particular interest in the subject before living with the Olkari. They taught me everything I know.”  
“I thought the Olkari were known for their technology.” Keith says, sounding puzzled.  
“Yes, well, they also happen to be good at medicine, too.” I say.  
“Do you remember much from before the crash?” Keith asks suddenly, and I’m a bit startled by the question. I hesitate for a moment as I apply a small adhesive bandage to the small cut on Keith’s neck, trying to come up with an answer.   
“Bits and pieces, really.” I say. “Sometimes something I see will trigger a specific memory or feeling, but for the most part it’s a bit of a blur. I mean, I know who I am now, but I have no idea how much of my old life has influenced it.”  
Keith thinks for a moment. “Don’t you want to know?” He asks. “Doesn’t it bother you to not remember what your old life was like?”  
“Not really.” I say, wondering vaguely where Keith is going with this. Up until now, he’s never expressed much interest in my past from before the crash.   
“Do you remember your family?”  
I pause with my hand hovering over his bare back, ready to rub some ointment into a particularly nasty bruise that’s oozing slightly from a break in the skin.  
“N-not really.” I say. “Like I said – everything’s a bit of a blur.”  
“And you’re okay with that?” Keith sounds a bit amazed.  
“Well, yes.” I say. “Because I don’t have time to be wasting pining over the past. Who I was before the crash doesn’t matter much now.”   
“So that’s why you worry so much about being useful or not.” Keith says in a flash of enlightenment. “You’ve got nothing else to hold onto.”  
“Sort of.” I say, setting aside the ointment and wiping my fingers on a towel. I sit on the bed beside Keith with a sigh.  
“Don’t get me wrong – I still want to see my family again, even if I don’t remember them super well. I still hold out hope that we’ll all make it out of this alive. That’s what I live for. That’s what’s important – more than any past memory.”  
Keith frowns and looks down at his hands, unconsciously clenching and unclenching his fists. “I wish it were that simple for me.” He mutters.  
I wait patiently for him to elaborate, but once again I’m disappointed. Keith seems content to give me bits and pieces instead of anything substantial. I’m left guessing based on his minimal facial expressions and limited reactions. I’m slightly frustrated by the fact that it’s impossible to fathom what might be going through his head.  
Getting up from the bed, I head over to the counter once more.  
“Do you need some painkiller?” I ask, holding up a small jar and shaking it, making its liquid contents slosh back and forth.  
“I guess it couldn’t hurt.” Keith mutters, then cracks a half-smile as he realizes the pun he’s just made.  
I chuckle. “Lance would be proud.”  
Pouring out the correct amount into a small disposable cup, I hand it to Keith, who takes it with slightly shaking hands.  
“I’m worried about that head of yours.” I say. “We should get you into a healing pod ASAP.”  
Keith’s eyes widen and he inhales sharply, choking on the medicine. Coughs rack his lithe frame, making his face contort with pain each time he wrenches his injured shoulder.  
I snatch a larger cup and fill it with water, rushing back over to the bed. Placing one hand on his good shoulder to steady him, I set the cup at his lips.  
“Careful.” I instruct. “Slowly."  
Keith gulps tentatively at the water, then sighs in relief as his coughing subsides.  
“No.” He rasps as soon as he’s able, looking up at me with earnest eyes. “Not one of those pods.”  
I stand there for a moment, puzzled by his reaction. “Why not?” I ask, setting the water cup on the counter and coming back over to the side of the bed. “It’ll heal you faster so you can get back to fighting the galra.”  
Keith is shaking his head, and I furrow my eyebrows, not wanting him to upset his head any further. “No.” He says as firmly as he can with his voice still hoarse. “I don’t want to.”  
“What are you afraid of?”  
Keith bites his lip. “I just…I don’t want to dream like Shiro did when he was in there. He remembered some of the trauma he went through with the galra. I…I just don’t need any of that right now. I know what I’ll dream about and I don’t want to.”  
Pity stabs through me like a knife. “Does this have anything to do with why we’re sitting here in this medbay in the first place?”  
Keith nods slowly, distress evident in everything from the expression on his face to the way he’s sitting, drawing his arms around his middle in a self-defensive posture.  
“Keith.” I say gently. “No one’s going to think any less of you for getting beat up. It happens. Sure, Lance might laugh, but he still cares. It’s not the end of the world if you -.”  
“No,” Keith cuts in, shaking his head more fervently, “no, you have no idea.”  
“Then tell me.” I say quietly. “I promise I won’t laugh or judge you.”  
Keith falls silent, his eyes glazing over as he stares off into space. Finally, he seems to surface, although his eyes are still glassy. “No.” He says. “I – I can’t. Not yet.” He looks up at me, indigo eyes full of a deep-seated pain I can only begin to guess at. “No more questions. Please? At least not for now.”  
I take a deep breath, resisting the urge to insist upon him telling me everything. Instead, I put one hand on his shoulder and the other at his back to help steady him and slowly help him lower himself back onto the pillows.  
“Okay.” I say quietly. “I won’t make you go in a pod if that’s what you want. Just promise me that whatever it is, you’ll tell someone soon.”  
Keith mumbles something incomprehensible and I realize he’s beginning to fade again. Reaching over, I pick up the blanket lying folded at the end of the bed and drape it over him. Keith sighs and closes his eyes, assuming a peaceful expression for the first time since before this morning.  
I stay at his bedside for a moment before moving to put away the supplies on the counter. A hand suddenly thrusts out from under the blanket and grasps my wrist.  
“Don’t go.” Keith whispers. His eyes are open again and the look he’s giving me is scared and small – quite unlike the expressions I’m used to receiving from him. “Please? Just until I’m asleep?”  
Vaguely, I’m aware I should probably be getting back up to the bridge as soon as I can now that Keith is resting, but something makes me decide that isn’t important right now. Perhaps it’s my own conscience. Perhaps it’s Keith’s unspoken fear. Regardless, I nod my head, wordlessly acquiescing to his request, and move to sit on the edge of the bed. Reaching out, I smooth the bangs off his forehead and away from his eyes. Then I rest my hand lightly on his, which is lying on top of the blanket, just to show I’m not going anywhere. Keith’s eyes close once more and he visibly relaxes, letting out a small sigh of relief and contentment.  
“Just sleep.” I say softly, giving his hand a small squeeze. “I’m right here.”


	2. Chapter 2

How long I sit there, watching over him, I don’t know. I decide that time doesn’t matter. All that matters is that Keith is taken care of. After a while his face relaxes and his breathing evens out. The slight grip he’d had on my hand goes limp and I can tell he’s finally fallen asleep.  
Questions race back and forth to the forefront of my brain and then to the back again. What happened at the base? Why is he so afraid of the healing pods? Why was he asking me all those questions about my past? What is the thing he’s afraid of dreaming about?  
I shift to a more comfortable position on the bed. I’m still holding Keith’s hand, and I realize I’m unconsciously rubbing my thumb over his knuckles again. The realization hits me and causes me to let go of his hand as if it’s suddenly burned me. Something tells me I wouldn’t have been holding his hand if he’d been awake and coherent, and I’m at a loss to explain why I’m doing it now. I’d acted purely on instinct – Keith needed comfort and I unconsciously moved to provide that however I could. Only now that I’m alone – at least mentally, do I realize exactly what I’ve been doing. Strangely, I don’t find myself embarrassed. Instead, I affirm my earlier conclusion that I’d acted on pure instinct and Keith must either be so totally out of it he doesn’t notice or else he finds comfort in my touch.  
Smiling to myself, I carefully get up from the bed so as not to disturb the slumbering paladin, and begin to put away the supplies. Once that is done, I check on Keith once more and am relieved to find him still fast asleep.  
Deciding it’s high time I emerge from the medbay and see what everyone else is up to, I dim the lights and exit the room only to nearly crash into Shiro in the hallway.  
“Oh, sorry, Hope!” He says apologetically. “I didn’t see you.”  
“S’okay.” I say. “Before you ask, Keith’s okay.”  
The anxious look falls from Shiro’s face like melting snow off a branch.  
“Although I am worried about his head.” I continue. “I used one of those handheld scanner-things and it said he had a mild concussion.”  
“Figures.” Shiro says, sounding bitter. His eyes glitter with anger, although he does his best to keep his face impassive. “Did the healing pods work this time?”  
I squirm slightly, biting my lip. “About that…Keith insisted he didn’t want one, so I put him to bed instead.” I jab my thumb behind me and Shiro peers around the corner of the doorway at the still form lying in the bed on the far side of the room.  
“I see. Did he say why not?”  
“Something about not wanting to dream…?” I trail off and raise my eyebrow at Shiro, hoping for enlightenment. “Anyway, he was dead serious and I didn’t want to aggravate his injuries by upsetting him so I went along with it.”  
“Probably wise.” Says Shiro, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Of course he wouldn’t want one…the stubborn fool…”  
“What happened to him?” I ask, fidgeting with the hem of my oversized sweater. “Did he get in a fight? Korivan, or whatever his name is, said something about knowledge? Something about seeking knowledge that wasn’t his?”  
The angry look is back in Shiro’s eyes again.  
“I’m not sure how much to tell you.” He says. “It’s a bit personal for Keith. I’ll tell you all I can, but the details have to come from him.”  
I nod, wondering what in the world could possibly have happened on that base. Once again, I wonder if we really should have these people as our allies, after seeing closely what they did to Keith.  
“Basically,” Shiro explains as we turn and head up the dimly lit hallway to the elevator, “Keith wanted answers on a particular subject of interest to him. The Blade of Marmora refused to divulge that information without first putting him to a test. Being the stubborn hot-head he is, he agreed, and I did nothing to stop it. I wish I could have called it off before it started, otherwise he wouldn’t be in the shape he’s in.”  
The elevator door opens and we step in and press the correct button. “I don’t think anyone blames you, Shiro.” I say gently, placing a hand on his galra arm. “Keith doesn’t seem to.”  
Shiro smiles weakly. “Thanks, Hope.”  
“Anyway, what sort of trial gives someone such horrible bruises?” I wonder aloud. “He looked like a human punching bag! His skin was so purple with bruises, he looked like a galra!”  
Shiro presses his lips together at the word, then immediately catches himself and assumes his usual thoughtful frown. I don’t miss the expression, but I’m too busy waiting to hear what he has to say to really think much about it.  
“They made him fight expertly-trained soldiers with little more than a glorified pocket knife.” Shiro spits. “And if that wasn’t bad enough, the number of soldiers increased each time. Then once he’d finally managed to outwit them, they started messing around with his head, making him see things that weren’t there.”  
I’m suddenly aware that my vision has gotten blurry and I rub my eyes to find tears gathered there.  
“Finally, the Red Lion started attacking when it sensed Keith was in danger.”  
“So that’s why the Lion was attacking.” I say. “We didn’t have any comms, so we could only guess at what was happening.” I rub my eyes again. “That’s horrible! Did he at least find out what he wanted to?”  
Shiro grimaces. “In a way, I guess.” He says. There’s an awkward pause. “Sorry, there isn’t much more I can tell you. The rest of the details will have to come from him. But I have a feeling he’ll cave soon. He can’t keep this internal for long.”  
I think he’s already starting to crack at the seams. I think, remembering how small and scared Keith looked when he begged me to stay with him. How distant and far-off his expression was, as if he was mulling over something not entirely pleasant.  
We reach the bridge and I’m immediately accosted by three very concerned paladins all crowding around me at once.  
“There you are, Hope!”  
“We got a bit worried when you didn’t show up!”  
“How’s Keith?”  
“Is he okay?”  
“Ack!” I exclaim, trying to wiggle my way out of the circle they’ve enclosed me in. “Slow down!”  
Still looking concerned, they do as they’re told, and I take a deep breath before answering.  
“Yes, Keith is fine.” I say. “He’s still very drained, though, and he’s got a minor concussion.”  
Pidge shoots off a question before I can say more. “Why didn’t you use a healing pod?”  
I bite my lip in an effort to restrain a snappish retort.  
“He said he didn’t want one, so I didn’t push it. He’s so exhausted, I decided to just let him sleep.”  
“But he’s out of the woods?” Hunk asks.  
“Yes.” I say, nodding my head.  
Pidge, Lance, and Hunk all breathe sighs of relief. From across the room, I notice Allura visibly relax as well.  
“That is excellent news, Hope.” She says. “Thank you for your service.”  
I fidget with the hem of my sweater and my gaze slides to the floor. “Uh, thanks.” I say. “It was, um, no big deal.” Scratching at the back of my neck, I look up once more. “So what did I miss?”  
And just like that, the attention is off me and back onto the matter at hand. Apparently, all that’s been discussed up until now are technical things such as the schematics of Zarkon’s mothership, total numbers in his fleet, total firepower, and the credibility of the spy infiltrating the high command.  
“So, no plans yet?” I ask.  
“Not yet.” Says a voice from my left. I jump and whirl around to find the Blade of Marmora’s leader, Kolivan, standing a little ways off.  
“Sorry.” He says apologetically, although his face remains impassive. “Did I startle you?”  
“A little.” I admit, feeling rather like a bird with ruffled feathers. I’m not sure I like standing so close to this stone-faced fellow and wonder if there’s a way I can discreetly move over to the other side where Hunk and Lance are. “I’m just a little on edge, is all.”  
“Does my presence disturb you?” Kolivan asks directly.  
Whatever nonsensical words I’m about to say die in my throat. I’m acutely aware of everyone’s gaze on me, however I shrug and do my best to ignore it.  
“To be honest, yes.” I say, in no mood to beat around the bush.  
Kolivan’s eyes narrow slightly, though I gather it’s not an unkind look – merely thoughtful. “I see.” He says. “I understand having galra in your ship would be unsettling.”  
A wave of understanding floods through me.  
“Oh, no.” I gabble. “It’s not because you’re galra. That’s not it.” I swallow and make a spit-second decision to be perfectly frank: “I’m having trouble trusting you because of what your people did to my friend.” My voice is taut and I lift my gaze to meet the galra full in the eye. Out of the corner of my vision, I notice Allura grimace, and I realize she’s a bit concerned. Our relationship with this organization is fragile at best, and the last thing we need are any more complications. But I realize I don’t care what these people think of me. My concern for the safety of my team comes first.  
Kolivan seems to understand. “I see you care much for your team.” He says. “I hope what happened to the Red Paladin will not hinder our alliance.”  
I nod slightly, not wishing to say anything more, and thankfully the conversation moves back to the task at hand.  
Several hours pass and much of the discussion goes over my head. It’s not like I’m unable to understand it – it’s just that I’m so distracted. I spend nearly the entire time sitting quietly, trying to listen and pay attention but thinking instead about Keith and mulling over the questions that have been bugging me since he first collapsed in the hangar. Lance gives me his control panel seat, since there’s nowhere else for me to sit, and I remain there for some time before surfacing from my thoughts and realizing the discussion hasn’t really gone anywhere. I stand up and clear my throat.  
“Sorry to interrupt,” I say, swallowing the lump in my throat. “But I think we all need a break. Let’s get some food and rest our minds so we can come up with a better plan. I think we’re all tired and our brains aren’t at their best.”  
“Actually, you’re quite right.” Says Allura, stifling a yawn. “We’ve all had a long day. Let’s take a short break to rest and recharge before we continue.”  
Despite the depth of the situation, no one complains.  
•   
Minutes later, I’m back at the medbay door, followed closely by Shiro. The door hisses softly and I peer around the corner to find Keith still fast asleep.  
“Should we wake him?” Shiro asks.  
I nod. “It’s probably best to. We need to make sure his concussion isn’t affecting him too badly.”  
And maybe with Shiro here, we can convince him to use a healing pod. I think.  
“Keith?” I ask softly, tapping his shoulder. “Keith? It’s time to wake up now.”  
Keith’s eyebrows twitch, but there’s no other response.  
I lightly tap the side of his cheek instead. “Keith? Come on, wake up. You can’t sleep all day.”  
This time there’s more response. Keith groans and finally one eye opens. He doesn’t say anything, just blinks slowly at me. I can see the confusion receding from his eyes as he awakens fully.  
“Hi, Hope.” He mumbles. His gaze slowly moves from me to the figure behind me. “Shiro?”  
The Black Paladin moves closer to the bed and I step aside to allow him room. He puts his hand on Keith’s shoulder and pats it affectionately.  
“Hey, buddy.” He says. “How’re you holding up?”  
“I feel like a piece of meat that’s been tenderized.” Keith mutters.  
Shiro cracks a half-smile, almost chuckling. “Yeah, that about sums it up.”  
“How long…?” Keith asks, looking from me to Shiro and back again.  
“About three Earth hours.” I answer. “We have to monitor that concussion of yours, so we have to keep waking you up to make sure you can still wake up normally.”  
“Makes sense, I guess.”  
“Are you hungry?” I ask.  
Keith thinks for a moment. “Yeah, actually. Can’t remember the last time I ate.”  
I smile, seeing this as a positive sign. “I’ll go see what Hunk is making.”  
•   
Several minutes later, I return with a bowl of mild soup and some light, cakey bread Hunk baked a few days ago. Balancing the tray in one hand and a glass of water in the other, I reach the medbay door and stop short when I hear voices – specifically Shiro’s and Keith’s.  
Now, I don’t typically make a habit of snooping on other people’s private business. Being honest and trustworthy is something I value. But eavesdropping, especially in a situation such as this, is dreadfully hard to resist.  
Creeping up to the door, I stop just outside of it so I can remain out of sight of the two paladins in the room. Straining my ears, I can just catch what is being said.  
“Look, I know this is a lot to process,” I hear Shiro’s voice say, “and I know you’re really confused right now, but I promise you you’ll feel much better if the rest of the team knew.”  
“I know you’re probably right, Shiro,” Keith croaks, “but I – I just can’t.”  
“What’s stopping you?” Shiro counters, though not in an unkind way. “Are you afraid of what we might think of you?” There’s a pause, and then Shiro speaks again. “I think you’re overthinking this, Keith, and it’s not good for you. Cutting yourself off from the team is - ”  
“What do you know?!” Keith almost shouts, his voice hoarse and shaky, “You have no idea how I feel! How can you possibly know how I feel? How can anyone?”  
“Keith, calm down - ” Shiro says patiently, but Keith’s outburst continues.  
“Nobody here knows what it’s like!” He snaps, “So don’t lecture me about what I should do!” He falls silent, seemingly having run out of steam. There’s another pause. Finally, Shiro speaks.  
“What exactly are you afraid of? Are you afraid we won’t accept you? Remember when Pidge finally told everyone she’s really a girl? Even though we already knew, it still made her feel a lot better, and it didn’t change how we see her. So why is this any different?”  
There’s a dry chuckle that sounds more like a bark. “Trust me, Shiro.” Keith says. “This is completely different.”  
“I think everyone else in this castle would disagree with you.” Says Shiro. He sighs. “Look, we can talk about this later. Just try and consider what I’ve said? You’ve never been one to really care what people think, so why is this holding you back?”  
When Keith replies, his voice sounds cracked and scared, and it’s so quiet I have to strain my ears to hear it. “I just don’t want another wedge driven between me and the group. I’ve always been more of an outcast. This is my first time being on a team like this. I – I just can’t be the reason it fails.”  
There’s another rather long pause and I decide now might be a good time to enter. I retreat back up the hallway a bit so Shiro doesn’t find me right outside the door if he comes out (since I have no way of knowing where he’s at) and begin whistling an off-key tune. I enter the medbay, still whistling, to find Keith sitting up in bed and Shiro looking like he’s just about to leave.  
“What’s the plan now?” I ask him. “Is everyone heading back up to the bridge?”  
“I don’t know.” Answers Shiro. “I’m just about to see what Allura and Coran think. Do you want me to come back and tell you what’s what?”  
“No need.” I answer, setting down the tray on the portable counter near Keith’s bed. “I’ve got one of those comms. You can just ping me.”  
“Sounds good.” Says Shiro. With one last concerned glance at Keith, he exits, leaving me and Keith in the medbay once more.  
“I’ve got some of that leftover soup from the other day.” I say to Keith, picking up the bowl. “And there’s some bread if you want it.”  
“Thanks.” Keith murmurs, accepting the bowl with slightly shaking hands. He still looks exhausted, and his eyes are half-lidded and slightly red.  
“How are you feeling now?” I ask. “Does your head still hurt?”  
Keith nods slowly and swallows. “Yeah.” He says. “Feels like my head’s about to split open.” He squints up at the large lights in the ceiling and walls. “And can we dim those any further? They’re really hurting my eyes.”  
My heart sinks. “Oh, Keith.” I blurt. “You really are in bad shape.”  
Keith says nothing, taking another bite of soup instead.  
I sit on the edge of the bed and offer him a cup of water. He takes it gratefully and downs it, but I notice he’s being very careful not to move his head. Probably wise, considering his concussion. I really wish he’d lie back down, or better yet, agree to use a healing pod. But I don’t bother asking because I know what his response will be. Instead, I start thinking about the conversation I’d overheard. What could Keith have discovered that makes him so upset? What sort of news would be so distressing that it would cause Keith to not want to talk to us? He’s always been a solitary sort of fellow, but this is something different. He’s afraid. Afraid of driving a wedge between him and the team, as he said himself. But what would make him so afraid of that?  
I guess I remain silent for too long, because Keith raises one eyebrow and looks at me with eyes filled with exhaustion, pain, and mild curiosity.  
“What’cha thinking about?” He asks suddenly, startling me out of my train of thought.  
“Huh?” I mumble, momentarily confused.  
Keith sets the spoon back in the bowl. “I was just curious. You’re not usually this quiet or serious if you’re not thinking hard about something. Plus, you had that look.”  
“Look?” I repeat.  
“The look you get when you’re thinking about something.” Keith explains. “I’ve seen it a lot. You always scrunch up your eyebrows and the sides of your nose crease up.”  
“Oh.” I say, not knowing how else to respond. “I didn’t know I had a face for that.”  
We both chuckle a little and Keith’s gaze drops to the half-eaten bowl of soup, which he stirs absently with the spoon in his left hand. He seems to have lost interest in it.  
“Not as hungry as you thought?” I ask.  
“Hnn.” Keith mutters in agreement. I gently take the soup bowl out of his hand and set it aside. Keith sighs, and we both just sit there for a moment, looking everywhere but at each other. The silence is alright for me, but it must be a bit uncomfortable for Keith, because he shifts slightly on the bed, twisting the sheets in his hands.  
“I want to thank you.” He says quietly.  
My train of thought derailed, I finally look Keith in the eyes. He has his usual serious look, but there’s a look of vulnerability as well.  
“You took the time to care for me when everyone else was up in the bridge. You didn’t have to.”  
I frown. “What are you talking about?” I ask, shifting to a more comfortable position on the bed so I can look him full in the face. “If I hadn’t helped, you’d have bled out or made your concussion worse. We couldn’t just leave you until our plans were made.”  
Keith shakes his head, then winces slightly at the motion. “No, that’s not what I meant.” He says. “You could have just stuck me in a healing pod. I’m not in much of a position to resist. You didn’t have to listen to me. But thank you for doing so.”  
“Y-you’re welcome.” I say, absently kicking my heels back and forth. “You just seemed so serious, I didn’t want to push it.”  
“But you could have.” Keith says. “And if it were anyone else – they would. But you didn’t.”  
“Against my better judgement.” I say. Might as well be honest. I cock my head to one side, wondering why Keith is acting this way, so different from his usual demeanor. “The pain meds making you loopy, or something?”  
“Maybe a little.” Says Keith. “But I guess I don’t mind. You and Shiro are the only ones I trust not to make fun of me or demand things I don’t want to say.”  
“You do know Lance is just showing affection when he teases, right?” I say, cracking a slight smile. “And Allura always has everyone’s best interest at heart. We all do.”   
When Keith doesn’t answer, I go on, seeing an opportunity to push for some answers. “So whatever it is you’re trying to hide from us – you can tell us, okay? It won’t make us think any less of you.”  
“Easy for you to say.” Says Keith bitterly, dropping his gaze down to where his hands have been twisting the sheets in his lap. “You don’t have a personal reason to hate the galra.”  
“You’re forgetting the Olkari.” I say, raising a finger. “They’re my people. They took me in after the crash. I’ve seen firsthand what devastation the galra empire has wreaked on us.” I suddenly stop as I fully consider the nature of his question. “What does hating the galra have to do with anything we’re talking about?”  
Keith says nothing, but continues to stare at his lap and fidget, and a suspicion leaps to my mind.  
“Keith?”  
No answer. I press on, having found a foothold at last.  
“Keith, what exactly did you find out at that base?”  
Without raising his head, the paladin points with his left arm over to the other bed where his armor is still sitting in assorted pieces, waiting to be cleaned and put away. “My knife, please? It should be somewhere in that pile.”  
Getting up, I obediently rummage through the armor, finding the small blade in a protective sheath clipped to the belt. I’ve seen it multiple times – usually just like this, in a sheath on his belt, but I’ve never really bothered to take a close look at it. I’d just assumed it was an ordinary, oversized pocket knife he’d brought from Earth. Some people like to collect things like that, and I had always assumed it was something of that sort. But now that I have a chance to examine it closely, I see that this is no ordinary throwing-knife one finds in hunting shops. The blade shimmers with a purplish sheen and the handle and most of the crossguard are wrapped in strips of cloth. I’ve seen enough metal in my lifetime to know this material is definitely not Earthen.  
Handing the blade to Keith, I sit back down on the bed and watch as he unwraps the strips of cloth, revealing a polished black crossguard with a glowing purple insignia emblazoned on it. I have to bite my tongue to keep from inhaling sharply. That symbol has become all too familiar in the past days. Wide-eyed with wonder, I look up from the knife to Keith and notice his brows furrowed and his eyes scrunched up, as if he’s trying to hold himself together.  
“I’ve had this ever since I can remember.” He says. “As you can see, the Blade of Marmora symbol is clear as day. “But up until a few days ago, I had no clue what it meant.” He looks up at me, his face serious but his eyes blank. “You might want to stand back a little.”  
I scoot farther towards the end of the bed and watch with eyes wide. Keith frowns in what seems like concentration and the glowing symbol begins to shine brighter. A bright flash momentarily lights up the room and I have to shield my eyes from the light. When I look again, the small knife has become a long, curved sabre, just like the one I saw hanging from Kolivan’s hip.  
“Wh-wha…?” I sputter in shock, “how’d you do that?”  
Keith’s eyes get that far-off look, then fill with pain. When he speaks, his voice is full of bitterness.  
“Kolivan said it could only do that if its bearer is of galran descent.”  
With an almost disgusted suddenness, as if he can’t bear to look at it anymore, he hastily drops the sword over the side of the bed. It clatters to the floor and lies still, almost tauntingly.  
My attention isn’t on the magic knife-sword, though. I feel like I’ve just been hit with one of Rhyner’s wooden mechs. The meaning of Keith’s words sinks in and my jaw drops.  
“Wait – does that mean…?” I trail off, unable to form the right words.  
“I’m part galra, yes.” Keith snaps, his voice cracking with the effort to remain calm. His body is shaking slightly and his face is all scrunched up again. “There, you happy now?”  
I feel the depth of his words like a weight in my stomach, but all I can think about is how miserable Keith looks in this moment. There’s an excess of moisture in the corners of his eyes, and his breathing has become haggard and shaky. His indigo eyes – always full of fire and determination, are now filled with pain, loss, and confusion. My heart feels like it’s been popped like a balloon. Everything seems to stop working. Whatever I’d been about to say now is lost. The world around me blurs until all I can see is Keith. He’s all that matters in this moment. Him and the tears threatening to spill out of his eyes. Him and the empty, pained look on his face.  
“Oh, Keith.” I manage to choke out, feeling my own eyes well up with tears. But I’m at a loss as to what else to say. No other words can describe what I’m feeling right now. Before I can mentally talk myself out of it, I let my instincts take over, getting up from the end of the bed, going over to him, and wrapping my arms around him. I feel him stiffen beneath me – he isn’t used to touch, but he doesn’t shy away. The tears are pouring from my eyes now, and I make no effort to brush them away. I just bury my face in Keith’s good shoulder, expressing without words the support and empathy I am unable to contain.  
Keith just sits there, stunned, until I feel his good arm wrapping around my back. Great, choking sobs wrack his lithe frame and his body shakes with the unfamiliar emotion.  
“I – I thought you’d hate me.” He whispers in a broken, hollow voice.  
“Why in the world would I do that?” I ask, reluctantly breaking away so I can look him in the eyes. “This doesn’t change who you are.”  
“But I’m part of the enemy!” He cries. “I’m not even fully human! How can you accept me when I can’t even accept myself?”  
“Because you’ve more than proven yourself.” I reply, sniffling a little to keep my nose from dripping. “And because ancestry doesn’t predict behavior. You’re not suddenly going to turn on us and blow up the castle, or something, are you?”  
Keith shakes his head slowly, biting back a wince of pain as he does.  
“There you go, then. Nothing to worry about.”  
Eyes glittering with tears, Keith scrunches up his face in an unsuccessful attempt to keep his emotions level. “How are you so…so chill with all of this? I don’t even know who I am anymore…”  
“Keith, this doesn’t change who you are.” I say, keeping one hand steady on his back.   
“You’re still Keith. You’re still you.”  
Keith’s bottom lip quivers. More tears threaten to spill out of his eyes.  
“And none of us think any less of you for being who you are.”  
My words echo perfectly what Hunk had said to me earlier – words I’d so desperately needed to hear then. Now I offer them to Keith, hoping they will reassure him in the same way they did me.  
Keith dissolves before me, collapsing against my shoulder and wrapping his good arm tightly around me. Any initial surprise I have quickly disappears as I wrap my arms around him, rubbing soothing circles into his back. Keith is a wreck, and he clings to me like a drowning person clings to a life ring.  
“It’s okay.” I soothe, scooting to a more comfortable position on the bed. Keith is shaking, and his breath comes in ragged gasps. “It’s okay.” I keep saying over and over, still rubbing circles into his back in an attempt to calm him. “I’m right here.”  
We remain there for several minutes – Keith crying quietly into my shoulder and me attempting to comfort him in the best way I can. Now that I’m able to think about it – this gesture surprises me greatly and I have to remind myself that this is really Keith. Keith, the loner of the group, who’s never shown much emotion or appreciated physical contact, is sobbing with heartbreak in my arms.  
Multiple emotions run through my head. Any thought of potential awkwardness is shoved aside by an overwhelming feeling of empathy. Maybe it’s because we’re connecting on this level, or because I know what it’s like to be different. Either way, I can feel his pain on a deeper level than normal. Everything suddenly clicks into place. Keith’s knife, and why he’d had it in the first place. His bruised and broken body. The Blade of Marmora. Shiro’s words – both to me and to Keith in the conversation I’d overheard. Part of me wonders if Keith is reacting this way because all these other factors are involved. If things had been different, he might have reacted quite differently. But adding confusion to exhaustion and physical pain – stars, no wonder he’s acting like this. He’s likely beyond overwhelmed. But at least he’s finally taken Shiro’s advice and told someone. It’s a step in the right direction, and I know it will only do him good.  
Eventually, Keith’s shaking lessens and his breathing evens out. I wait for him to move, not wanting to upset him by letting go too soon. His breath is hot against my neck and my arms are starting to get tired. But I don’t want to let go. The emotions have started to overwhelm me as well, and my empathy for his situation overrides any awkwardness or discomfort I may be feeling.  
With a great, shuddering sigh, Keith finally breaks away, scrubbing at his face with the heel of his left hand. Pulling my sleeve over my hand, I reach up and carefully dry the tears from his face. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, apparently trying to pull himself together. I look him straight in the eyes, keeping my voice soft, but strong.  
“Are you going to be okay?”  
Keith wipes his eyes one last time. “Yeah.” He says quietly, his voice cracking. “Yeah, I think so.”  
“Good.” I reply, scrunching up my face in a small smile. “If you want to talk more, I’m always open. But for now, you should get some more sleep. You’re exhausted. I can see it in your eyes.” Maybe later once he’s rested, I can ask about a pod again. But I know better than to bring it up now.  
Keith doesn’t argue with that. Shifting on the bed, he props himself on his left elbow and slowly lowers himself onto the pillows, breathing a deep sigh of relief. His eyes still glisten with pain and exhaustion, but most of the fear is gone. Scooting off the bed to stand next to it, I drape the blanket back over him, watching as he closes his eyes and sighs again, this time in contentment.  
“Thank you.” He whispers.  
“You’re welcome.” I reply, and that’s all that needs to be said.  
As Keith drifts off once more, I am struck with a realization. I’ve discovered something about myself I didn’t know existed. I mean, I’ve always cared for my friends, but this level of help is something I’ve never been asked to provide before. And yet I acted purely on instinct.  
Maybe Shiro and Allura’s words to me yesterday were right. Maybe this is where I’m supposed to be. I feel a great sense of peace wash over me as I finally feel content for the first time since boarding this ship.  
It’s kind of funny. I’d been so caught up in worrying about whether I was doing enough for the team that I’d missed what was right in front of me. The way I immediately offered to help Allura with her hair after the mice had gotten to it. How I’d automatically moved to help Keith with his hand without even wondering how he’d managed to cut himself. The way I’d acted towards Kolivan – my concern for my friend overriding any attempts at diplomacy. I’d been acting on instinct all along and yet I’d never realized it.  
Perhaps my purpose here isn’t to do – to pilot a lion or fix a broken teludav, but to be. A shoulder to cry on. A confidant. A friend.  
A smile forms on my lips as I look down at Keith’s sleeping face. A ghost of a smile appears on his features, as if in silent agreement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end of my Purpose series! I plan to post a single fic that will flesh out Hope's backstory a bit more. That should be up within the next few weeks. I'm also working on another installment of stories set in Season 3. Stay tuned!


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